Second Touch (Emma's Arabian Nights, #2)
Page 15
Not knowing what else to do, she knelt in the center of the room and waited for her Master as she’d been taught.
She’d scarcely settled and arranged her robe about her in what she hoped was a pleasing manner when the door handle turned again. It opened revealing a massive, thoroughly intimidating man with dark hair that was cut so close on the sides it was almost shaved. A scar went down his cheek and bisected his lips before trailing down to his strong chin. He wore an impeccably tailored, black wool suit that highlighted his fit figure. On his wrist gleamed a gold watch that probably cost more than her apartment building.
She’d been expecting some elegant, sophisticated man who reeked money and class. The man standing before her was plain scary. Despite his obviously high-end apparel he somehow exuded danger. In a way, he reminded her of the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a good five inches taller than she with a body like a prizefighter. No pretty gym muscles here; this man had a barrel chest and massive thighs, not to mention huge arms.
Gia looked back to his face and forced herself to meet his brilliant blue eyes. To her surprise he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen, Caribbean blue with hints of green here and there. They seemed out of place in his rough and imposing features. He had a solid jaw, good cheekbones, and a nose that was a little bit bigger than normal and looked like it had been broken more than once.
The man reached down and took her hand. As he pulled her to her feet, she had the impression of great strength. The hand holding hers was large with scars across the knuckles. Whoever this man was, he’d been a fighter at one time. The scent of his cologne reached her and she took in a greedy lungful of the air around him. He smelled delicious, like leather and spice.
“My name is Ivan. I am your new Master’s bodyguard, and I will be taking you to him.”
His voice was a deep rumble, like rocks grinding against each other. She was surprised to find herself disappointed he wasn’t the man who had bought her. Attraction arced between them and she looked away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the man who was not her new Master.
Unable to help herself, she took another deep breath of his cologne and her overactive imagination began to conjure all kinds of kinky things. Glancing down at his big hands she tried to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by someone as large as him, or what it would feel like to have all of that weight on her, pushing her into the mattress while he fucked her. Power and strength radiated from him in a way she’d never experienced with any Dom before, similar to the way Master Martin’s presence filled the room but somehow…sharper.
Her nipples drew to hard points and she quickly looked away from him. She’d always had a thing for men’s hands and his were inspiring an almost dizzying amount of lust. He moved his hands so they framed his crotch, and she realized with a start he thought she was staring at his dick. As she looked back up to his face she found him smirking down at her.
Damn, totally busted like some kind of hoochie for checking out a guy who wasn’t her Master.
She was such a lousy submissive.
Something in Ivan’s gaze sharpened, and she looked away, unable to hide from his scrutiny. He removed his jacket and held it out to her, revealing a crisp white shirt that stretched out over his impossibly broad shoulders. “Your Master wishes you to wear this so you don’t get cold. Though your American fall is like the summer in Russia, that little scrap of nothing won’t protect you from the chill.”
Unsure if he wanted her to respond, she simply nodded and let him help her into the jacket. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile that made her heart lurch. With a gentle touch, he draped the heavy coat around her. It hung to almost her knees and held the scent of his cologne and natural musk. She pulled it tight and gave him a grateful smile.
“Thank you.”
“What is your safeword?”
She blinked at him and tugged his jacket closer. “Damascus.”
“Damascus? Like the city?”
“Yes, Sir.” Both men looked at her, obviously expecting more of an answer so she babbled out, “My mother was part Syrian. We would visit there in the summer every other year when I was little.”
The man nodded and took a step back, obviously putting some distance between them. She worried he thought she flirted with him. All she needed was her new Master thinking she was the kind of submissive who would screw anyone that smiled at her.
Ivan gave her another searching look before he turned. She followed, trying to at least walk gracefully. Mistress Viola had once said a submissive should be like a living work of art, graceful and flowing, a pleasure to the eye and touch, a joy to behold.
While she would probably never be anyone’s joy to behold, at least she wouldn’t embarrass her new Master. With the big strides Ivan was taking she wasn’t as smooth as usual. Instead she clutched his jacket around herself and hurried after him. They passed a few other couples on their way through the mansion, including a Master who was rather vigorously fucking his new female submissive on the bottom steps of a set of stairs.
Lucky girl.
All too soon, they reached the front door. Ivan stopped and looked down at her bare feet. Standing this close to him made her feel small, feminine, and vulnerable. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gave a somewhat undignified squeak and instinctively laced her arms around his neck. The sensation of his rock solid muscle surrounding her was arousing, and made her feel safe even as she scolded her body for responding to the wrong man. She looked up at him as he carried her outside and studied his profile. He had the look of some old time warlord, the kind of man who conquered the world in his spare time.
No, she needed to keep her focus on her new Master, whoever he was. Making herself look away, she studied the drive in front of the mansion and the cars parked there. Ivan headed to the left and tucked her closer to his body as a stiff wind filled with the spicy scent of fall leaves tickled her nose. He radiated warmth and she removed her hands from around his neck before tucking them against his chest.
They reached a black limo and a tall, lean man in a silver suit stood beside it. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. When he spotted her, he didn’t say anything, merely nodded at Ivan and opened the door before getting into the limo.
She pushed at Ivan’s chest. “Please let me go, I need to properly greet my Master.”
Ivan looked down at the pavement then back at her feet. “No.”
Befuddled, she found herself in the limo before she knew it with her new Master sitting at the front near the partition between the passenger section and the driver. She quickly took a seat at the long bench along the side of the limo, unsure if she should sit next to her new Master or wait for him to motion her over. He certainly didn’t appear eager for her to join him. When she smiled and tried to catch his eyes, he looked away. Ivan climbed in after her and took the back seat between the two doors. As they pulled away from the mansion, she wished the week was already over.
For the rest of this story, check out Ann’s website to find your local retailer
Contents
Title page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
Other BDSM Romance by Ann Mayburn
Still
Ivan’s Captive Submissive
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